Sonnet XVII: His Mother Dear Cupid
His mother dear Cupid offended late,
Because that Mars grown slacker in her love,
With pricking shot he did not throughly more
To keep the pace of their first loving state.
The boy refus'd for fear of Mars's hate,
Who threaten'd stripes, if he his wrath did prove:
But she in chafe him from her lap did shove,
Brake bow, brake shafts, while Cupid weeping sate:
Till that his grandame Nature pityijng it
Of stella's brows make him two better bows,
And in her eyes of arrows infinite.
Oh how for joy he leaps, oh how he crows,
And straight therewith like wags new got to play,
Falls to shrewd turns, and I was in his way.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Related quotes
If Cupid
Love can hit you
no matter where you are
whether it be at a funeral
or at a fun fair.
We may not know it at the time,
but cupid always shoots
his arrows straight and true.
You could be on a bus, plane or train
if cupid has his arrows set
there is nothing you can do.
You cannot duck or weave.
If cupid has his arrows set
love will come to you.
You maybe dancing at a ballroom,
if cupid spies a different partner
it is all over for you.
You will not see it coming
and will not even feel a thing
until you are the church
slipping on the wedding ring.
For if cupid has you in his sights,
there is nothing you can do.
25 February 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cupid's Mess!
Here comes the valentine day,
The season and time of the year,
When cupid is more busier than ever,
Shooting arrows to young as well as selected old hearts.
Cupid is known to play the game of love,
He with his symbolic bow and arrows,
Is known to ignite love among young hearts,
Creating love confusion is cupid’s favorite game.
His most successful moments,
When hearts become fully dipped in love,
And when their hearts act stronger than their mind,
And when the victims are not in their actual disposition.
So great was the joy of Cupid,
His sense of pride in his success,
To see the pain and excitement of people in love,
So Cupid was called by angels as 'Stupid Cupid'!
10/02/09
Valentine Day's special
poem by Winnie Angel
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Sonnet XIII: Phoebus Was Judge
Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love,
Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were:
Jove's golden shield did eagle sables bear,
Whose talons held young Ganymede above:
But in vert field Mars bare a golden spear,
Which through a bleeding heart his point did shove:
Each had his crest; Mars carried Venus' glove,
Jove in his helm the thunderbolt did rear.
Cupid them smiles, for on his crest there lies
Stella's fair hair, her face he makes his shield,
Where roses gules are borne in silver field.
Phoebus drew wide the curtains of the skies
To blaze these last, and sware devoutly then,
The first, thus match'd, were scantly gentlemen.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Cards and Kisses
CUPID and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses--Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lips, the rose
Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes--
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this for thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
Apelles' Song
Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin;
All these did my Campaspe win:
And last he set her both his eyes -
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
Cupid and My Campaspe
Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses;
Cupid paid.
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves and team of sparrows,
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how),
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas, become of me?
The Marriage of Edward Herbert Esquire, and Mrs. Elizabeth Herbert
CUPID one day ask'd his Mother,
When she meant that he shou'd Wed?
You're too Young, my Boy, she said:
Nor has Nature made another
Fit to match with Cupid's Bed.
Cupid then her Sight directed
To a lately Wedded Pair;
Where Himself the Match effected;
They as Youthful, they as Fair.
Having by Example carry'd
This first Point in the Dispute;
WORSELEY next he said's not Marry'd:
Her's with Cupid's Charms may suit
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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Starry Eyed And Mystified
I get all starry eyed and mystified
when cupid’s arrows strike me.
All dreams go out the window
and I am putty in love’s hands.
My world turns upside down
and I can barely stand.
I tip toe up the garden path
when love grabs me by the hand.
Starry eyed and mystified
as snow falls in the summer
and butterflies fly in the winter.
The world goes topsy-turvy
when cupid’s arrows strike their mark.
Such is love’s touch,
which leaves us wanting more
of being starry eyed and mystified.
26-27 November 2010
poem by David Harris
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To Mother, Sweet Mother (on Mother's Day,2012)
Sweet mother,
We remember
Our stay together,
With dear father!
Can we ever
Forget your love and care?
We can never
Return your gifts, precious and rare!
Mother, you were a lady great;
Someone, no one on earth could hate;
A teacher, home-maker, top-rate;
You changed for better, our fate!
Your good nature, we can't equate;
Your roles in life, we can't under-state;
Your sacrifices, we can't enumerate;
Your example, we want to emulate.
We cannot thank you mother dear,
With words, gifts, savories, flower!
You put us on the road to God;
We pray you get the Lord's reward!
Today, you aren't alive
But, you were the queen-bee
Of our pleasant hive!
"Happy Mother's Day,2012! " dear mom,
(Late) Mrs. Stella Antoniswami, Old Chungam, Coimbatore
By loving dad (Late) and all children
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-5-'12
poem by John Celes
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Children Of Love
The holy boy
Went from his mother out in the cool of the day
Over the sun-parched fields
And in among the olives shining green and shining grey.
There was no sound,
No smallest voice of any shivering stream.
Poor sinless little boy,
He desired to play and to sing; he could only sigh and dream.
Suddenly came
Running along to him naked, with curly hair,
That rogue of the lovely world,
That other beautiful child whom the virgin Venus bare.
The holy boy
Gazed with those sad blue eyes that all men know.
Impudent Cupid stood
Panting, holding an arrow and pointing his bow.
(Will you not play?
Jesus, run to him, run to him, swift for our joy.
Is he not holy, like you?
Are you afraid of his arrows, O beautiful dreaming boy?)
And now they stand
Watching one another with timid gaze;
Youth has met youth in the wood,
But holiness will not change its melancholy ways.
Cupid at last
Draws his bow and softly lets fly a dart.
Smile for a moment, sad world! -
It has grazed the white skin and drawn blood from the sorrowful heart.
Now, for delight,
Cupid tosses his locks and goes wantonly near;
But the child that was born to the cross
Has let fall on his cheek, for the sadness of life, a compassionate tear.
Marvellous dream!
Cupid has offered his arrows for Jesus to try
He as offered his bow for the game.
But Jesus went weeping away, and left him there wondering why.
poem by Harold Monro
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Bulletproof Cupid
Everything's forgotten
Everything's so rotten
Why don't you release me?
Why don't you just tease me?
I don't think I need you anymore
I don't think I need another whore
I just feel like you should wait
Time will tell before it's too late
When all is said and done you
Just ain't no fun to be with
You're my bulletproof cupid
You're my little stupid
You're my fluctuated
You're my inspector gadget
You're my new toy to play with
You're my toy boy to be with
You're my bulletproof cupid
Just a little too stupid
Everything is taken
Everything's awakened
Why don't you reject me?
Why don't you just infect me?
I don't think I want this anymore
I don't think I want another whore
I just feel like we should wait
Time unfolds then it's too late
When all is said and done you
Can't be the one to run with
You're my bulletproof cupid
You're my little stupid
You're my incarcerated
You're my fortune faded
You're my new tool to play with
You're my new fool to be with
You're my bulletproof cupid
Still that little bit stupid
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XLVIII: Cupid, I Hate Thee
Cupid, I hate thee, which I'd have thee know;
A naked starveling ever may'st thou be.
Poor rogue, go pawn thy fascia and thy bow
For some few rags wherewith to cover thee.
Or, if thou'lt not, thy archery forbear,
To some base rustic do thyself prefer,
And when corn's sown or grown into the ear,
Practise thy quiver and turn crow-keeper.
Or, being blind, as fittest for the trade,
Go hire thyself some bungling harper's boy;
They that are blind are often minstrels made;
So may'st thou live, to thy fair mother's joy,
That whilst with Mars she holdeth her old way,
Thou, her blind son, may'st sit by them and play.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Sonnet 53: In Martial Sports
In martial sports I had my cunning tried,
And yet to break more staves did me address:
While, with the people's shouts, I must confess,
Youth, luck, and praise, ev'n fill'd my veins with pride;
When Cupid having me his slave descried,
In Mars's livery, prancing in the press:
'What now, Sir Fool,' said he; I would no less.
'Look here, I say.' I look'd and Stella spied,
Who hard by made a window send forth light.
My heart then quak'd, then dazzled were mine eyes;
One hand forgot to rule, th'other to fight.
Nor trumpet's sound I heard, nor friendly cries;
My foe came on, and beat the air for me,
Till that her blush taught me my shame to see.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Ain't No Cure For Love (Crush Demo)
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
Aint no cure
Cupid was a blind man
He must have missed his mark
Shot an arrow in the air and hit me in the heart
I went to see Saint Valentine
Said Whats come over me?
Daddy must have missed the chapter about the birds and bees
You can be the King of diamonds
You can cash in all your gold
You could hire Johnnie Cochran
Its too late to save your soul
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
Now someone call my lawyer
Im going to see my shrink
I found myself in the jewelry store buying a diamond ring
I went to see my doctor
Said Wont you help me please?
He said Son Im sorry, its a terminal disease
Cant get no love insurance
Cupid draws his bow
I aint waving boys, Im drowning
Its a damn good way to go
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
You can be the King of Diamonds
You can cash in all your gold
You can hire Johnnie Cochran
Its too late to save your soul
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
No aspirin
No ambulance
Or Voodoo you can think up
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Fever
Roy orbison
This lackadaisical mood is driving me mad, Im feeling so lazy
Flowers in bloom, and Im humming a tune
Ive looked at the moon till Im crazy
The temperature is a little bit warm, and though I know he meant no harm
Oh, spring fever has got me in love with you, with you, with you, oh, spring fever
Church bells are ringing and the birdies are singing, cute little cupid is calling
The birds and the bees and the budding trees have made the love bug come calling
I feel just like a love sick fool, mother nature, now dont be cruel because oh,
Spring fever has got me so in love with you, with you, with you, oh, spring fever
Spring has sprung, well Ive really been stung, theres no reason to doubt it
Im really in love, cupid gave me the shove, there aint no two ways about it
By this beautiful sky of blue I swear Ill never get over you, oh spring fever
Has got me so in love with you, oh, spring fever
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Cupid, Oh My Love
Let the gentle breeze,
Flow through me
For I feel so much dizzy
Because it cupid who lives in me
Oh cupid, oh my love
Strong and desiring cupid
For you fame flies like dove
For the man who would not believe is so stupid
Draw your arrow from within
And struck through my heart
For you there is nothing like sin
Who wouldn't believe that except the madman in heart
For you cupid I praise and behold
Even when I wonder through land unsuveyed
My heart would never be sick from cold
And my friend would grow jealous everyday
No one knows you
Better than I do
For you reside within me
Oh cupid, oh my love
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Sonnet 52: A Strife Is Grown
A strife is grown between Virtue and Love,
While each pretends that Stella must be his:
Her eyes, her lips, her all, saith Love, do this
Since they do wear his badge, most firmly prove.
But Virtue thus that title doth disprove:
That Stella (oh dear name) that Stella is
That virtuous soul, sure heir of heav'nly bliss,
Not this fair outside, which our hearts doth move;
And therefore, though her beauty and her grace
Be Love's indeed, in Stella's self he may
By no pretense claim any manner place.
Well, Love, since this demur our suit will stay,
Let Virtue have that Stella's self; yet thus
That Virtue but that body grant to us.
poem by Philip Sidney
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O Cupid, Cupid; Get Your Bow!
Arming down along the stream,
Along the sparkling water,
And past the pool where lilies gleam,
There comes the squatter’s daughter.
Her eyes are kind; her lips are warm;
And like a flower her face is;
The habit shows her bonny form
As graceful as a Grace’s.
O I’ll be mad of love, I know;
My head she’ll surely addle;
O Cupid, Cupid; get your bow;
And shoot her from the saddle!
For, like a bird on breezes waft,
She quickly, quickly passes;
O Cupid, Cupid, draw your shaft;
And bring her to the grasses!
O she is worthy game for you;
And there is none to match her.
So, Cupid, send your arrow true;
And I’ll be there to catch her!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Why was Cupid a Boy
Why was Cupid a Boy
And why a boy was he
He should have been a Girl
For ought that I can see
For he shoots with his bow
And the Girl shoots with her Eye
And they both are merry and glad
And laugh when we do cry
And to make Cupid a Boyt
Was the Cupid Girls mocking plant
For a boy cant interpret the thingt
Till he is become a man
And then hes so piercd with care
And wounded with arrowy smarts
That the whole business of his life
Is to pick out the heads of the darts
Twas the Greeks love of war
Turnd Love into a Boy
And Woman into a Statue of Stone
And away fled every joy
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Happy Valentine's Day
Arrows and bows...
And chocolate proposals.
Shared candied hearts,
With notes of love and kisses.
Engagement offerings,
Announced to start beginnings.
Cupid has his way...
To make a Happy Valentine's Day!
And the anticipation of Spring,
To bring with it to us such joy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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